“Let me. Let me,” Chelsea squealed.
“Okay. You make a few more of these. I’m going to get some other things to make different shapes.” Exhausted, Lily half climbed, half rolled out of the sandbox and got to her feet. I wonder how this works with two parents? She still had hazy memories of her childhood before her mother’s death, when she had two parents. They had made it all look so easy, made life secure for her and her brother. She worried at times about how having only her as a parent affected Chelsea, maybe in ways neither of them would know for years to come.
She went to the shed and returned with a large plastic funnel, a small square box, and a garden trowel. “Now we can do some serious building.”
Lily loved these times with Chelsea. Not so long ago she had watched an inquisitive toddler stand on tiptoes, stretching toward forbidden items set beyond her reach. Her daughter was growing up fast, too fast. Lily had already enrolled her in kindergarten for September.
She leaned back and watched as Chelsea filled the bucket and funnel with sand, her forehead wrinkled in concentration as she built a castle. Small hands left fossil-like imprints in the sand formations as the child worked diligently, unaware of her mother’s gaze.
A familiar lump formed in Lily’s throat and she blinked back tears. Had she actually considered for just a second not bringing this child into the world? She reached out and stroked her daughter’s tanned leg, noticing how it had changed shape, lost its pudge.
Chelsea looked up, frowning. “What, Mommy?”
“Nothing, sweetie. I just wanted to touch you. You’re getting big, growing up so fast.”
“And I get to go to kindagarden in Sec-tember.”
“Kind-er-garten in September. It’ll be here before we know it.”
“What’re you gonna do without me, Mommy?”
Lily’s chest tightened as if a tiny fist squeezed her heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
From the time Chelsea had been born, they’d been more like one person than two—Lily and Chelsea. Her daughter became an extra appendage. Lily was certain that was the norm for most single parents. She had learned to multi-task—repairing a Barbie doll while stirring a pot of soup, having a conversation while using the bathroom, foregoing any privacy. She rarely dated. Six months ago she had almost had sex. Almost. Chelsea had come downstairs at midnight, thankfully calling ahead for Lily, and completely breaking the mood. And Lily hadn’t been in the mood again since. It was a good thing, since her date had buttoned, zipped and hit the front door in record time, never to be heard from again.
The phone rang, jarring her thoughts, and Lily rose to her feet. “Don’t leave the yard. I’ll be right back.” At the back door, she dusted the sand from her bare feet and crossed the kitchen, grabbing the receiver from its cradle. “Hello.”
“Lily, it’s Vicki. Look, I know you’re counting on me to watch Chelsea tomorrow, but I have to go out of town. My mother’s having emergency gall bladder surgery. I’m leaving in about ten minutes. I’m really sorry.”
“Oh. I understand, of course. I hope things go well for her. Thanks for calling. I’ll work something out.”
She’d had four job interviews in the past week with no positive results. One guy flat out told her he didn’t hire single parents. Sure, she could file a complaint, but would she then want to work for the man? Two others said they’d keep her resume on file and call if they needed her. The fourth said she was “over-qualified.” That mystified her completely. How could someone with only a high school education and limited work experience be over-qualified for anything beyond serving up fast food?
Discouragement and fear had battled for space in her brain. Until she saw the ad for an Office Manager in a realty office. Upon calling, she learned that the position was more of a secretary-slash-receptionist. But Lily had long ago given up pride in having a title over relief at having a paycheck.
She hung up the phone and sat at the dinette table, resting her forehead in her palm. “Shit. What am I going to do?”
The job interview was scheduled for ten in the morning. She couldn’t take Chelsea with her. Lily went out the back door and headed across the yard to Mrs. Glenn’s porch. She knocked on the frame of the old wooden screen door and waited. The inside door stood open, the scent of apples and spice wafting through the screen.
“Lily. Come inside.” Mrs. Glenn looked every bit her eighty-two years—thinning white hair, wrinkles, and a slight stoop. “You look warm. Can I offer you a glass of tea?”
“No, thank you. I came to ask a favor. I have a job interview tomorrow morning, and I have no one to keep an eye on Chelsea. I was wondering if…”
“I’ll be happy to watch her. Maybe we’ll bake cookies. Which reminds me.” She picked up a pie pan from the counter. “I baked a couple of pies, and this one is for you and Chelsea. Dutch apple. She told me it was her favorite.”
Lily grinned and accepted the still-warm pie. “Oh, thank you. About tomorrow. Are you sure?”
“I raised four children and helped raise twelve grandchildren. I’d be caring for the great-grandkids if they lived nearby. I’m sure I can handle one four-year-old. She’s such a sweet little girl.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I really need this job. I’ll bring her over around nine-fifteen. I should be home by eleven-thirty, noon at the latest.”
“That’ll be fine. You don’t have to rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
Lily pushed the screen door open. “And thank you for the pie. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it.”
“You’re welcome.”
She crossed the yard, everything that could possibly go wrong flitting through her mind: the old woman could have a heart attack or fall. What if she took Chelsea for a walk and neither of them could remember the way back home? She could forget to turn off the oven and set the house on fire.
Stop it, Lily. You’ve lived next door for almost a year and Mrs. Glenn hasn’t set her house on fire or gotten lost once, so far.
“Hey, pumpkin. Look what Mrs. Glenn made for us.” She showed Chelsea the pie.
“Can I have some now?”
“Sure. It’s still warm.” Lily set the pie on the chair and grabbed the hose. “Here, let me wash the sand off your hands and feet. We’ll go in and have an inappropriate lunch.”
“What’s in-pro-perate?”
Lily grinned. “A lunch a good mother wouldn’t serve.”
“You’re a good mother.”
“Thanks, Chels.” Lily’s eyes misted.
While they sat across from one another and enjoyed the apple pie, Lily told her daughter about the change of plans for the next morning. “Vicki’s mom is sick, and she has to go and be with her. Mrs. Glenn is going to watch you while I go for my interview. She said maybe the two of you will make cookies. Won’t that be fun?”
“It’s okay.” Chelsea sounded much less than enthusiastic.
“You like Mrs. Glenn, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but…”
“But?”
“She’s old. And she looks like she’s going to fall over sometimes. What if she falls over?”
Well, there it was, her own concern echoed by her daughter’s thin voice.
“Have you ever seen Mrs. Glenn fall over?”
Blonde curls bounced. “No.” She tilted her face. “Does Mrs. Glenn have a button?”
Lily furrowed her eyebrows. “A button?”
“Like the lady on TV. She fell and couldn’t get up but she had a button.”
“I don’t know, honey. But I’m sure Mrs. Glenn is not going to fall over. And if she does, you remember how I taught you to call 9-1-1 for help? That’s all you have to do. You would be Mrs. Glenn’s button. Okay?”
Chelsea seemed to consider this idea. “I guess.”
Lily cupped her daughter’s chin in her hand. “Thank you. I won’t be gone very long, and you know how important it is for me to get this job.”
“Okay. When are we
gonna buy my swimmin’ pool?”
Lily sighed. “I don’t know, sweetie.”
“But you promised,” Chelsea whined. “And it’s summer.”
The kiddie pools Lily had priced were around fifteen dollars, but that was fifteen she didn’t have right now. “Let’s see if I get the new job first. Okay?”
Frowning, Chelsea nodded. “Okay. Can I bring Pepper in now to watch cartoons?”
“Sure.” Lily set their plates in the sink. “Chels, I’m going to get you that pool as soon as I can. I promise.”
Chelsea ran out the door. The screen door swung open again as she came inside with the cat slung over her shoulder. She skipped through the kitchen, causing the cat’s head to bob. Lily resolved that she would buy Chelsea a new wading pool from her first paycheck if she had to give up lunch for a week to do it. She thought Pepper deserved a treat, too, for his good-natured acceptance of Chelsea’s handling.
“Chels, I’m going upstairs to shower and change. Don’t go back outside, okay?”
“Oka-ay.”
The shower pounded the ache from her shoulders. Wrapped in a bath sheet, Lily examined her wardrobe, selecting a suit to wear the next afternoon. At least she had professional clothing and wouldn’t need to go shopping. Good thing, unless they let me pay with my looks.
She removed the towel and dressed in jeans and another tank top. Looking at herself in the mirror, she ran fingers through her short curling ash-brown hair—so much like her mother’s. Grief over that loss still grabbed her at times. Like now, when she needed someone to share her panic. She avoided her own eyes. The desperation they held sent a shudder through her.
Chapter Three
The realty office sat in the middle of a block, flanked by a pharmacy and a florist shop. Lily squeezed her Toyota into a parking space, deposited three quarters in the meter, and checked her reflection in the florist’s window. She straightened her shoulders, smiled to make sure she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth, then headed into Gardner Realty.
The cool blast of air conditioning welcomed her. She walked to the counter and stood for a moment, looking around, listening for some sign of life. A wooden quarter-wall with a gate separated the waiting room from a reception desk. The water cooler to her left gurgled, and she jumped. Relax. You have great experience and good references—as long as they don’t call Veronica Steadman.
“I’ll be right there. Have a seat.”
Lily looked around to locate the male voice. The door behind the reception area stood open. A hand waved to her from behind a desk in an inner office. Lily nodded and took a seat, thumbing through a landscaping magazine for distraction.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Miss…?”
An expensive-looking charcoal suit covered a broad-shouldered, six-foot frame. Neatly cut, but unruly dark hair fell onto a tanned forehead beneath which a smile spread into quicksilver gray eyes. The eyes looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she’d seem them before.
Lily found her voice. “Lily Champion. I’m here for…”
“An interview. Yes. Rick Gardner.” He walked to her, extending his hand. “Please, come in.” He held the gate that separated the reception area from the waiting room.
As she edged past him, Lily inhaled a light scent of spice. She loved the aroma of aftershave. She blinked and reminded herself to focus.
Ushering her through the next door, he said, “Have a seat. May I offer you coffee?”
She shook her head. “No. Thank you.”
“Good. I make terrible coffee. Now, I have your letter of application here—somewhere.” He rifled through a stack of papers and pulled the letter free. “Got it.”
“Here are my references and work history. Well, I gave you that in my letter. The history.” Lily opened the folder she carried and presented the papers.
“Yes, thank you. I noticed you don’t have much experience.”
“I haven’t had time.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I mean, I…I’m not that old. I’ve been working since high school. If you read the next page…” Warmth spread up her neck. Why was she so flustered?
He flipped the front page over. “Family entertainment slash pizza parlor and two different law firms. That’s a big step upward.”
“I’m a fast learner.” Lily sucked up all the confidence she could muster and launched into her practiced sales pitch. “Mr. Gardner, I have career goals that reach beyond my experience to date.” She looked at the disorganized stacks of file folders and papers littering his desktop. “I need a job, and from what I can see, you desperately need an assistant. I’m good with people. I have excellent organizational skills. I’m professional, and I’m willing to learn new tasks. I’m proficient on the computer. And I don’t think it’s beneath me to make the coffee.” She drew in a quick breath and leaned back in her chair.
“Well…okay. It says here you only worked at your last job for five months. And I see you have no reference from that firm. Care to explain?”
“My boss was a…” Lily reined in her frustration. “She expanded my hours beyond what I could manage. As the duties changed, I found it necessary to terminate my employment there.”
He smiled. “I’d like to hear the rest of what you started to say, but I’m sure you won’t tell me. Your hours here would be eight to four-thirty Monday through Friday and eight to noon on Saturday. I work some evenings and Saturday afternoons to show properties, but that wouldn’t affect you. You get an hour for lunch. You take breaks as you need them, as long as the work is done and calls aren’t lost. There is no overtime. Two weeks paid vacation and ten paid sick days, which I think is both reasonable and generous. The standard holidays off, of course.”
“Is there health insurance?”
He shook his head. “This is a small operation. Actually, it’s just me and, well, you—if I hire you. I’m afraid those benefits aren’t available.”
Her heart sank. She really needed medical coverage for both herself and Chelsea. “I don’t think it’s going to work out. I’m sorry.” She bit her lip to still the tremble in her chin.
He cocked his head. “Do you make good coffee?”
“I haven’t had any complaints.”
He studied her for a moment. “Tell you what. Work for me for one month. If it works out, you find a health insurance plan, and I’ll kick in fifty percent. Within reason, of course.”
Her insurance from the law firm would carry through another month. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to afford their COBRA plan. This could work. “You mean, you’re hiring me?” Her pulse quickened.
“On one condition.” He presented a wolfish smile.
Her heart gave an involuntary flutter. “What’s that?”
“Tell me what you were going to say about your former boss.”
Flames licked up her neck, consuming her ears. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
He shrugged.
“Okay. I was going to say my boss was a…a bitch.” She barely whispered the last word.
Rick threw his head back and laughed, his chest heaving. “I think you and I will get along just fine. At least I know you’ll never call me a bitch.”
His laughter vibrated in her center, and she shifted. “There is one thing you need to know.”
“What? You have a prison record?”
“No, nothing like that. I have a daughter. She’s four. I’ll arrange for child care, but if she gets sick…”
He nodded. “Is she generally healthy?”
“Usually, thank God. She has so much energy, I doubt a good virus can catch up with her.”
“Let’s hope she stays that way. Will you need to bring her in with you on Saturdays, or will your husband watch her?”
Lily’s eyes widened. “No, my husband…uh. No husband.”
“Oh, right. You said you were single. So, when can you start?”
“As soon as I arrange for a sitter.”
&n
bsp; “Great. Tomorrow it is.” He stood and rounded the desk.
“But I’d have to get a babysitter.”
He sighed. “Do you see this desk? One more day, and I’ll be invisible. You’ll have to slide a sandwich to me between the mounds of paper. I’m missing calls like crazy, and if I stay here to return them, I miss sales. Bring the kid with you. Give her a book to read or something. There’s a TV in the corner of the reception area to show videos of property to prospective buyers. Pick up a couple of movies for her to watch. Just, please, be here tomorrow.”
“But, we didn’t discuss the pay.”
“You’re right. What were you getting at the law firm?”
“Sixty-ninety a week, but that was with benefits.”
“I’ll pay you seven hundred a week, with a five percent increase after three months. Once you get the hang of running things, though, I’m going to expect you to help me out with showings now and then. Is that fair?”
She began to get excited at the prospect of working in real estate. “Will I get a commission if I make a sale?”
“Let’s take one thing at a time and see how you do. Besides, you need a license to make a sale. I’m thinking more along the lines of you setting up refreshments, making that great coffee I’ve heard about, and greeting potential buyers.”
By the time she got to that point, surely she would find a regular sitter for Chelsea. “Deal. Thank you, Mr. Gardner.” She shook his hand. His large, warm, slightly roughened hand swallowed hers. She wondered what he did that caused the roughness. Surely leasing and selling real estate didn’t require manual labor.
“Rick. Please don’t make me feel older than I am. Mr. Gardner’s my dad, and he’s retired.”
“Thanks, Rick. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Once out on the sidewalk, Lily raised her arms and swished her hips in a happy dance. She looked back to see her new boss standing at the window. He grinned and waved. Grinning back, Lily returned the wave and hurried to her car.
Renting to Own Page 2